


Persuasion

by ancslove



Series: Proxy [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Canon Era, Gang Rape, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Self-Comfort, Whipping, because Enjolras' destiny is martyrdom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-28 16:15:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10135769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancslove/pseuds/ancslove
Summary: The police want Enjolras, budding revolutionary, out of their way.  They turn to Patron-Minette to make it happen.  For the February Challenge at Hurt/Comfort Bingo.  My prompts were Bruises, Whipping, and Tyranny/Rebellion, which made for a rather perfect fit with Les Mis!





	

_“No killing. We don’t need to be dealing with another body.”_

They came for him by proxy. The police had no evidence to pin on him, for Enjolras was too careful in covering his tracks, and too well-known to risk arresting on an unproven charge. So they hired petty criminals, men with little interest in politics and much in filling their own pockets, to do what they couldn’t.

_“Nothing permanent. He’s rich, don’t need his enraged family asking questions.”_

A full purse, rough description of their mark’s looks, haunts, and abilities, and precious little instruction, and the Patron-Minette were on the move.

_“Dissuade him from his current path. Have fun.”_

 

Walking home after a late meeting, Enjolras barely saw the blow that knocked him unconscious. A meaty fist materialized in the darkened alleyway to slam his head into the nearby brick wall. He crumpled noiselessly, one more unseen victim of the Parisian underground.

Awareness rushed to return sometime later, carried on a sense of impending danger awakened too late to help him. Enjolras felt strong arms clutching his torso to a solid male chest behind him, as his limp body was dragged further into the night. Lashing out, he threw his head backward while stomping against his kidnapper’s knee. Neither blow made much impact, and his captor switched his grip and shook him hard enough for his teeth to jar together.

“None of that now, need you alive and pretty for us.”

Trying to control the panic rising through his throbbing head – _us?_ – Enjolras opened his mouth to scream for help. Before he could draw breath, one huge hand clamped down on his throat, lifted him bodily, and threw him through a concealed doorway. The world spun uncontrollably as he fell. Before the floor could halt him, new hands caught him up tight. Enjolras blinked the daze from his vision and twisted his head as much as he was able, trying to take stock of his new surroundings. The room was small and dingy, bare posts holding up the ceiling, and the only piece of “furniture” being a thin, dirty looking mattress tossed to one side. Two men, one with a thin, sharp body and smile to match and one masked and half shrouded in shadow, stood around him. His original kidnapper and new assailant brought the total to four.

“So this is the boy who proclaims to stand for the rights of all men? Think he will still mouth such pretty words when we’re done with him?” asked his new captor.

“Think there’re better ways for him to help _raise up_ us poor folk! If you know what I mean!” leered the skeletal man, laughing at his own wit.

“Would you allow us upon your barricade when you make your stand?” the Mask asked. “After tonight, you won’t want the likes of us anywhere near you.”

Enjolras struggled, alarmed by both his predicament and the dangerous words thrown at him. He’d never seen nor heard of these men before, so how could they be aware of his position? “What is the meaning of this? I don’t know what you’re talking about; this is madness.”

Mask glided forward, stopping in front of him, and reached out to grasp his prey’s chin between thumb and forefinger. “Play dumb, it makes no difference to us. We get paid to play with you all the same.”

 

The words were like a signal. Hands suddenly began loosening his cravat and worming underneath his clothes. The man holding him whirled him around and lips mashed against his own. A hot, forceful tongue pushed into his mouth, seeking to devour him from the inside out. Enjolras choked, squirming against mouth and hands. Fingers tangled in his hair, yanking back his throbbing head. Before he could regain his bearings or defend himself, he was shoved heavily away, into new arms. More hands pulled at him, bruising his arms and ripping at his waistcoat and shirt. Struggling, yelling, only earned him a sharp backhand across his face, as his arms were pulled behind his back and bound with the remnants of his own shirt. Another tongue dominated him, swallowing his cries and stealing his breath away. The stench of alcohol and rough grasp of fingers against bared skin overwhelmed his senses, and the jeering catcalls filled his head.

His vision blurred as he was thrown across the small circle into another forcible kiss. Enjolras gasped for breath as the cycle continued, passed from man to man, groped and violated. The ones waiting their turn were calling to him with threats and insults, but the specific words were lost as the dizzying attack continued. He was back in the arms of the hulking giant who’d snatched him off the street. Large, calloused hands tore down his trousers and squeezed his buttocks while a wet tongue licked his cheek. Enjolras had nowhere to recoil in his disgust, but his new vulnerability sent a panicked jolt through his overwhelmed mind. Naked now, he was tossed to the next man, the deceptively skinny one, and pulled into another kiss, deep and wet.

“Enough foreplay. Get the whore on the mattress,” Mask ordered.

Skinny stole one last kiss, biting down on Enjolras’ lower lip until he drew blood. Then he relinquished his victim to Hulk, who easily hauled Enjolras up and immobilized him, back to chest. Dragged, struggling, to the mattress, he was thrown face down. Before he could move, rough hands flipped him over onto his bound arms and pinned him in place. The sharp blade of a switchknife settled against his throat, and he froze. The fourth man smiled down at him, teeth glinting maliciously beneath a bushy mustache.

“You must have pissed off someone important. Now we’re going to show you why pretty little rich boys don’t belong with the rabble.”

Somewhat incongruously, the explanation soothed some of Enjolras’ panic. This, he could deal with. He had steeled himself to withstand torture and interrogation upon arrest, and this was merely an extension of that scenario. Enjolras clung to that thought as his legs were forced apart and a heavy body settled between his thighs.

 

A cheer rose around him as the first man took him. The pain was startling as it ripped through his body, and Enjolras struggled to contain his scream. The man set a pounding rhythm, merciless as he sought his pleasure. Other hands roamed his stomach and spread thighs, squeezing, claiming, as they waited for the first to finish. Surrounded and held, Enjolras had no choice but to submit to the brutal use. He moaned in pain when teeth latched onto his neck. Mustache began to thrust faster, grunting in exertion into Enjolras’ neck and shoulder. Finally, he climaxed. Enjolras closed his eyes as he felt the hot liquid fill him. It was over.

“Shit, I’d have done that for free! Who’s next?”

They took him in turns. Pulling and prodding his aching body into new positions, slapping his face when he resisted, they celebrated when new bruises formed. Skinny forced him to his knees and rode him from behind, using his hair to pull his head back. Hulk propped him half upright against the masked man, and enjoyed making him watch his own rape while Mask pinched his nipples and bit his shoulders. Then they switched places, and Enjolras was introduced to a new hell.

“Ride me, whore,” Mask demanded. Hulk manhandled the struggling Enjolras into position, lowering his abused opening onto the waiting prick. Enjolras screamed as he was forced down. The giant’s strong hands began lifting him up and down, forcing him to pleasure the other man.

“You do the work.” The masked assailant steadied his hips as the giant stepped away. Enjolras hesitated, head spinning. Overwhelmed and in pain, he didn’t understand the order.

_Whap!_

A harsh slash burned across his back.

_Whap!_

Before he could react, another blow fell. Then another.

“I said ride me, rebel whore! This doesn’t stop until you make me come.”

Wearily, Enjolras raised himself up on trembling leg muscles and tried to imitate the motion that the other man had forced from him. The whip fell again and again, and Enjolras found some strange comfort in it. The pain searing across his back and bound arms helped take his mind from the pain in more intimate parts of his body. And the reminder of why he was enduring this torture in the first place gave him strength. He would not break. He would survive this trial, and his resolve would not falter. It seemed to take hours to make the man come, and by the time he had finished, Enjolras was too worn out to scream anymore.

 

“Tie the pretty thing up. Don’t want him slipping away before we’ve all had our fill,” ordered a voice, Enjolras wasn’t sure whose. He only understood that his ordeal wasn’t over. They wanted more. They weren’t done using him. Maybe they would continue using him until he found a way to escape. Hands stroked over him, prodding his injuries, admiring the bruises blooming over his torso and thighs.

“Still such a pretty little slut.” Fingers caressed his cheek, and Enjolras turned away. He didn’t have the strength to fight when a leather cuff was fastened around his throat, and the attached chain lashed to a nearby post. Blood and semen slicked his lower body, and his face was sticky with drying saliva. That didn’t deter his captor from grabbing his jaw and kissing him again.

“Come morning, we’ll have some more fun with you. You’ll soon learn why God gave you such a pretty mouth.”

With that threat ringing in his ears, Enjolras gave into the pain and horror of the night, and collapsed unconscious.

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm blending Brick and Musical verse here by including Brujon in the gang, although none of Patron-Minette are named. Claquesous has a more leading role here because of his work as a police informant - he's the one hooking up PM for the job. 
> 
> Montparnasse makes an appearance in the sequel.


End file.
